Faltering
by DarkBlaziken
Summary: FE7. For years, I have waited for my chance to seek my revenge...but when I really get the chance...why do I falter? Oneshot, Raven's POV


**A/N:** Well, this is my first FE fanfic written from the first person POV! By the way, it's NOT Matt-centric (so if you're looking for Matt-revenge-against-Jaffar please don't be disappointed) ...Yes, he's a character. I know the main character may seem a bit over-dramatic...hope you enjoy it!

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**~Faltering~**

It was a still night.

The inky blackness seemed to cast a frightening, even sinister aura around everything in its grasp. Not a star twinkled. Not a soul stirred. Not a sound was to be heard. The camp was deathly silent.

And on such a night, I finally get a chance, my chance—for revenge.

How long have I waited for this precious chance! From the day I entered this army under the guise of a mercenary, I have been trying, trying so hard to get near him, close enough to fulfill my dearest wish.

It has not been easy avoiding all suspicion and all the obstacles. There were just too many eyes watching over him, following my every move. It was impossible to strike during a battle and make it look like an accident.

And the persuasions from those whom I thought will support me! Surely your blood relations, your trusted henchmen will support you in anything you do? But no, it has always been "Lord Raymond, don't do this…" or "Lord Brother, don't do that…"

But surely they, of all people, should understand?

Understand by destroying House Ostia, our House Cornwell will be restored to power, regain our glory and that we will be able to answer to our ancestors? Are they not tortured by the humiliation we have suffered?

Lucius would say, "Forgive your enemies. Forget the past."

But I cannot forgive them. I cannot forget the shame. No, I will get back at them even if it is the last thing I do.

Priscilla had begged to at least leave the matter to later, after we defeated Nergal.

But I _have_ waited. There were so many other chances, but I let them go. Only just did I realize, it could not wait that long. Once Nergal was defeated, Eliwood's Elite would separate, and I would forever lose the chance. Now, even defeating Nergal means less to me than this vengeance I must seek. He, at least, did not cause the downfall of my nation. My hatred for House Ostia was more, much more than that for Nergal. I _have_ to do it. I _have_ to eliminate the last descendant of this unworthy, avaricious line of royalty that mercilessly seized our country when we were weak. Why show mercy on these ruthless people? They do not deserve it. They only deserve to be punished, destroyed—like how they destroyed House Cornwell. I would never rest until the last of this family is wiped clean off the surface of this earth.

And now, indeed was the time to avenge my family and let House Cornwell claim its rightful place.

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Silently, I lifted the window flap of the tent.

He was sound asleep; I doubted that he would wake up even if I dropped my sword on the ground. Still, I took care not to make any noise, just in case it attracted others' attention. Slowly and carefully I crept to the tent entrance, drawing my sword. Excitement and a grim sort of satisfaction coursed through me. Just another step and I would reach my goal—

Unexpectedly, someone grabbed my shoulder from behind. I had to bite my tongue hard to prevent myself from shouting out in surprise.

I have been discovered…at the last moment, right before my success, I have been discovered…no, I am not going to let the years of waiting go to waste…

I wrenched myself away from my assailant, and by the light of the dying embers around the tent, I could barely make out his face, half hidden in the shadows: the Ostian spy, Matthew.

I gritted my teeth and tried to slash at him with my sword, only to find that he had somehow immobilized my sword arm. My sword hung uselessly by my side. I pried the sword out of my right hand and held it up in an attacking stance.

He looked at me in a bemused sort of way, whipped out a pair of silver daggers from nowhere and pushed the sword blade away. "I know what you're here for," he stated.

"If you do then you'd better back off before I kill you too," I growled and raised the blade again, such that the tip was pointing directly at his face.

He did not seem the least perturbed by this. Instead, he lowered his daggers, sheathed them, and said, "Let's not deal with this by force. Put down you sword and let's talk." Seeing that I made no indication whatsoever to do so, he grew slightly agitated and said, "But Ostia only destroyed Cornwell because it was corrupted! You can't blame Ostia entirely and anyway that was the best solution to keep the Lycian Alliance intact—"

Cornwell…corrupted…best solution…those words ignited a spark in me somewhere, and it was all that was needed to set me on an inexplicable, fiery hatred; without waiting for him to finish, I roared, "Then you are wrong! Ostia was too arrogant to just _assume_ that kicking Cornwell out of the Alliance was the best solution! And who are you people to decide the fate of our House? Just because you have the strongest army in Lycia?—"

He held up his hands as though in surrender to stop my torrent of retorts. "Okay, okay, chill! But you have evaded my first point. Cornwell was corrupt, is that a fact?"

"I—" I was lost for words. "Yeah, but so what?" I said, trying to sound confident.

"So Ostia isn't entirely to blame. Okay, we shouldn't have made the decision to destroy House Cornwell, but it's also partly your own fault, see?"

"No, I _don't_ see the point," I said flatly. "Since you already admitted Ostia was partly to blame, then you should be punished! It doesn't matter if you're partly in fault or entirely to blame, you still deserve punish—"

"Okay, even if we do deserve punishment," he cut impatiently across me, "that is to be decided upon by the Alliance, as you have said. "Yes, I know you want revenge," he quickly continued, seeing that I was showing every sign of interrupting, "but don't you think you're seeking your revenge on the wrong person?"

"No, unless you are trying to tell me that Lord Hector isn't going to be the next Marquess of Ostia," I said sarcastically.

"That's not what I meant! All I wanted to say is, young master—I mean Lord Hector—wasn't the person who decided to destroy House Cornwell, right? He may be a descendant, but who is to say every Ostian Lord is the same? He had no control of what had happened in the past, just as you could not have prevented the corruption of House Cornwell! But what can be changed is the present, and the future. You could not prevent House Cornwell from collapsing, but you can rebuild it—"

"The reason why you are saying all these is because you are trying to protect your lord," I said loudly before he could continue.

He smiled. "Partly, yes, but also partly because I know you don't really want revenge."

That irked me. "How do you know that?" I demanded.

"Because, if you had really wanted revenge, you would not be having this pleasant little conversation with me," he said simply.

Again, I was lost for words. Darn it. Not another of his traps.

He took advantage of my momentary silence, and continued on, "I know you think that you want this revenge, perhaps I could even say you desire it more than anything else in the world. However, deep down, you do not actually want revenge. It would not give you the satisfaction you dream of. Only the truly evil and heartless would be capable of such a deed. You are not like that at all. All you want is to have Ostia punished, as you have said."

"How do you know?" I insisted. "How do you know I am not all that—evil and heartless, as you have said?"

"Maybe I might be wrong," he said, shrugging. "But even then, understand your enemies. I know it is impossible for you to forgive Ostia, but understand that we, too, had our unspoken difficulties. Lord Hector had no say over anything at that time, for I am sure if he did, he would have disagreed with destroying House Cornwell."

I let out a derisive laugh. "Understand you? How am I supposed to understand a bunch of people who destroyed my House for no good reason and then try to argue their innocence? No, I do not understand any of you, and will never understand you!"

"I thought that too, at first," he said. Seeing my confused expression, he explained, "All that I have spoken to you about revenge is from experience. I too wanted revenge against someone, but when I really got the chance, I…I couldn't do it. I felt as though if I had really sought my revenge, I would be haunted by it for the rest of my life. It just did not seem like something…human." He gave me a funny smile, something between a smile and a smirk, and said, "I could let you into Lord Hector's tent now and you could walk right up to him and you would realize you can't do it."

"Oh really?" I said, getting my sword again. "Care to give it a try?"

"Why not?" he said, and still smiling, he stepped aside, leaving my way to the tent entrance clear.

Stunned, I slowly stepped in. Suddenly, my breathing became uneven and my pulse increased. I could hear my heart thumping away loudly in my chest. I felt as though I had been caught in some wrongdoing. Still, I pressed on, and stepped up to beside his bed.

I raised my sword. My brain was screaming at me to plunge it down his unguarded throat, but my body could not seem to comply with the instruction. I was rooted to the spot. All the cruel satisfaction vanished instantly, replaced with increasing uncertainty. What Matthew said was true. I really could not do it, I just could not…

My sword clattered to the ground. I was still frozen to the spot, but the moment my sword left my hand, an inexplicable sense of release went over me. Some invisible burden seemed to have dropped onto the floor, together with my sword.

"I think we'd better get out of here. If young master wakes up and find the two of us in his tent, I'm afraid things would be unpleasant for both of us." Matthew had entered the tent as well.

I did not know what I felt. Gratitude? Anger? Powerless? But as I turned around, Matthew was already gone.

---

The night sky was still shrouded in complete darkness, but the darkness seemed to be different. Rather than being sinister, it was more of a sorrowful black…

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_I had failed…_

_Failed to avenge my family…_

_I am so useless…_

_If I die here, so be it…_


End file.
